Trapped In Black
by night flame miko
Summary: Harry has lived for a very long time, but it seems life is out to get him once again. Now he's trapped on a planet with some hapless tourists and a dangerous convict. And that's not the least of his problems, wait till the suns go out. Harry/Riddick
1. Chapter 1

**Trapped In Black**

By: night flame miko

_**AN:** Hey everyone. To those of you who are reading '_An Idle Mind Is The Devil's Playground'_, sorry that I'm starting_ another_ story. I just so loved this idea and it wouldn't leave me alone until I wrote it._

_I have to say that some of the credit behind the idea of this goes to _Serpent in the Shadows_, for their story called _'Worth the Wait'_. It is a very well written and interesting story based in Crematoria. It is also a Riddick/Harry one, and it is because of that pairing that this idea even came to me._

_And also, here are the warnings/disclaimers before we begin the story._

_**Warning**__**: This is going to be a **__**slash fic**__. In other words, it is going to be a __**boyxboy**__ story. So don't come to me if you ignore this warning, and then get annoyed that you read it and found out too late that it was __**going to be a slash story**__._

_**Disclaimer:**__ I own nothing!_

_In any case, thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!_

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Harry's eyes snapped open, his mind on high alert in seconds despite the forceful sleep caused by the cryo-chambers they rested in on the transport ship. He could see the wide eyes of the passengers around him as they woke up to the shuddering and screeching ship. Determined to find out what was going on, he went to open the door only to have a warning sign flash across the glass, alerting him and the other passengers that until they had landed, they would not be allowed to exit the cryo-chambers.

Gritting his teeth he breathed deeply once before resting back against the cushioned wall, hating the feeling of being caged. If it was one thing that had lasted through his long, _long_ life, it was the anger he felt at being trapped; a side effect of being kept prisoner by Voldemort for 3 and a half months. Ignoring his urge to lash out with magic he simply set his feet and determined to ride out what was obviously going to be a crash landing. He just hoped it wouldn't hurt _that _bad, considering the last crash landing he was in, that was unlikely.

Examining the people around him with half hooded eyes, he examined their red lit faces, the colour highlighting their terror and overwhelming fear. He couldn't understand it. To them the 'worst' that could happen would be for them to die, and he didn't view death as something to be feared, but rather a gift. A way to rest after living their lives. Although admittedly his life had been much, much longer then any of these peoples' and he would probably be biased considering he had viewed all his loved ones die over the years.

He would very much like to see them again.

Dragged out of his thoughts by screeching metal he opened his eyes again, having apparently closed them whilst in thought, and watched what he could through the glass of his temporary prison. He had to admit to himself that trapping the passengers in the cryo-chambers was probably the best move, considering the chambers were padded and would provide the best protection in the event of a crash.

His feet automatically adjusted to the dangerously tilting ship, keeping him level even as what he could determine as the forward part of the ship tilted too far upwards, dragged down by the weight of the back. Cocking his head to the side he considered what this meant. The captain would have to loose the weight, and the only way to do that would be to purge the ship of some of its compartments. Compartments which contained the passengers. The only 'comforting' thought he could come up with was that the compartment he was in was the third from the back. Hopefully the loss of the ones before it would allow the front to lower enough to land in the safest manner.

Just as he predicted he felt the ship suddenly change angle and knew that one of the compartments had been released. But even then, he knew it wasn't enough. And as he looked at the crying and praying passengers all around him, he finally decided to do something about this. Releasing his magic he felt it rush out of him, like water flowing through a broken damn. Slowly it slid through the invisible holes in the ship, out to encompass the ship, slowly he used his magic to force the ships front down. Unfortunately he wasn't quick enough and he felt it as the compartment after theirs was released, his magic unable to hold onto it as it tumbled away.

Sweat formed on his brow as he now used the extra magic to align the rest of the ship, gritting his teeth when he felt the captain reaching for the remaining purge lever. He felt her grip the lever and then pause as she spoke with someone, unable to hear the words he got the gist of it when she hesitated, long enough for the other person to run back and jam something in the doorway so she would be unable to release the final compartment, even as she wrenched the lever down as far as it would go before it jammed.

Gritting his teeth he kept the ship as aligned as possible, feeling the captain kicking frantically at another lever his heart stopped briefly when it finally released, only to restart when flaps along the ship opened out, taking some stress off of his magic as it automatically aligned itself.

Finally they exited the atmosphere and this is when his problems finally began, as something within the air immediately began sucking his magic away, stealing every bit of it that was not inside his body. Wrenching as much back as possible he allowed himself to pray for those around him, hoping for their sakes that they survived the crash even as the shock of loosing more than a quarter of his magic in one go pushed his mind into darkness.

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He woke up to the sounds of frantic movement and screaming. Pushing the nightmares (memories) to the back of his mind he tried to reorganise his thoughts. Remembering the last thing to happen, he pushed a tendril of magic out of his core and finally his body only to have it instantly sucked away again. By what, he had no idea, but he wasn't going to let it steal any more of his magic.

Looking around himself he noticed that miraculously his cryo-chamber had survived the crash in almost perfect condition. The only thing being that with no power it wouldn't open. Normally without magic this would be a problem, but he had other tricks up his sleeve, literally.

Pushing magic into the twin metal bands around his wrists he felt it as the intricate spells within them activated and reformed his hands beyond the metal into blades. Lifting those blades he slammed them into the glass, shattering it and allowing him to drop into the space beyond. The screaming was easier to hear, now that he was out of the cryo-chamber, so allowing his hands to reform he walked towards its location.

Moving through the trashed ship he entered the room beyond, his eyes immediately noticing the destroyed and empty cryo-chamber that was supposed to contain the prisoner this ship was also transporting. Mentally shaking his head at the guys luck he continued, pausing only when the screams finally died.

Continuing he came into the next room, the last one before the piloting chamber. He identified this room as the area of the screaming, mainly because of the now dead man lying on the ground with a piece of metal jutting out of his chest. Leaning over the dead man- crying- was a women with short blonde hair dressed in the crews uniform for this ship.

Watching the scene he sighed almost inaudibly. Whilst he couldn't understand fearing death, he could _more _than understand the pain of loosing a friend or loved one to its embrace. This was what prompted him to walk forward and lay a hand on her shoulder.

She reacted immediately, spinning around her other arm pulled back to punch. He simply raised a brow and she let out a quivering breath before lowering her hand slightly, though not completely.

"Who are you?" Letting his hand drop from its still raised position he tilted his head slightly, taking in the fact that this was the women who had nearly dropped his compartment and killed (nearly) everyone in it. Looking down he identified the man who had saved his fellow passengers lives before looking back into her cautious eyes.

"I am Harry J. Potter-Black…and you are?"

She slowly lowered her raised hand, her eyes shifting around the room, searching for something. For what, he had no idea.

"I'm Carolyn Fry. One of the survivors. If you're looking for everyone else, they should be exploring outside."

Recognising the dismissal as well as the need to be alone to mourn a while longer, he simply nodded and swept out of the room, his invisibility cloak swirled around him as he moved. Noticing the swishing silver fabric he realised it must have reappeared on him after he passed out in the cryo-chamber.

That was the problem with the Hallows. If you have them with you long enough, they could apparently learn to recognise the magic of their owner and make their way back to him. Considering how long he had had them, they now simply re-appeared back on him, no matter how far he had travelled or how much he wished they wouldn't.

Shaking his head at the futility of it all he stepped out of a hole in the side of the ship and into sunlight. Almost immediately he felt overheated, the sun reflecting off the desert landscape around him causing the heat to double noticeably. Realising that his clothes were impractical he took off his cloak, carelessly dropping it to the ground before pulling off his black long sleeved shirt and revealing the black vest underneath it, dropping the shirt on top of his cloak. Considering his long black pants he realised that without magic he couldn't do much about them, yet. Looking at the cloak he considered leaving it where it was (he had no need to worry about someone taking it, it would simply come back) but realised it would provide some much needed shade and re-donned it.

Looking around he took in the 4 Muslim priests praying in the distance, their words not quite reaching him. Over to the side were the two Australian prospectors, deep in conversation about something, watching them he noticed that they were quickly devolving into an argument. Turning his attention to the surrounding area he wondered where the others were, there should be at least 3 other people, including the captain which Miss. Fry obviously wasn't. And the convict was another that was missing, though whether that was a good thing or a bad thing was yet to be seen.

Moving around what remained of the ship he noticed another large chunk of it not too far away and started walking in that direction, wondering if that was where he was going to find the missing passengers.

Or anything potentially useful to survive in what was looking like a very uninhabitable planet.

Entering through the gaping hole where the hull used to be attached to the rest of ship he let his eyes readjust to the darkness, hearing people talking he stepping into the next room just as two men tipped over a box and spilled out what looked like a young boy.

Quirking his eyebrow Harry smirked. Apparently they had a stowaway. His smirk turned into a smile at the stowaway's cheeky question of, "So we've landed then?" The two men shared a look and one of them was about to say something, probably along the lines of 'What are you doing here?' which Harry thought would be an unbelievably stupid question as the answer was quite obvious. So he stepped forward and replied first,

"Yes we have landed."

Cocking his head to the side he appraised the boy, there was something about him that caught his attention and he wasn't sure what it was. Maybe it was the fact that he was a stowaway? Not many people had the guts to do that anymore due to the 27 pieces of equipment/technology that were used to find stowaways, and the hefty fine placed on them.

"And who are you?"

This question was directed at him by the man with very short hair and what looked like a police uniform. The other more fancily dressed man had returned to collecting what looked like liqueur bottles, and judging by his haste and determination to find them all they probably belonged to him.

"My name is Harry J. Potter-Black, and you are?"

The man blinked at his rather interesting name, before replying in kind,

"I'm William J. Johns, and this is Paris P. Ogleby."

Harry appreciated the second introduction, it was quite obvious from Mr. Ogleby's determination that he was too distracted to care about introductions.

Turning to the stowaway Harry raised a brow, silently asking for the boys' name. When the child hesitated a second before answering, Harry's second eyebrow joined the first. Something was going on here, and he would very much like to know what.

"M' name's Jack."

Harry gave a 'hmm', before turning his attention to helping Mr. Ogleby find his liqueur. As he started to rummage through the large boxes throughout the area, he was distracted from what he was doing by a loud gasp behind him. Turning to look at Jack he raised a brow at the boys now pale face, only to look down and finally notice the jagged piece of metal sticking out of the back of his leg. Blinking he wondered how he had missed that, it wasn't like it was a small piece of metal. He was pulled away from his thoughts when Jack dropped into a crouch beside him, reaching out a shaking hand to carefully touch the metal.

"Your…leg." Looking up at Harry, Jack almost whispered, "Doesn't it hurt?"

Tipping his head to the side, he noticed that the two other men were also looking at him with various forms of horror and morbid curiosity on their faces.

Shrugging he replied, "I suppose so. I don't know how I missed that. I must still be in shock from the crash."

They shot him a disbelieving look but promptly sat him down to look at his mutilated leg. He found he was mildly annoyed with himself, mainly because if he had noticed that his leg was hurt before these people had, then he could have used his magic to heal himself in minutes. Now he had to conceal that fact. Mr. Johns sat beside him and warned him this was going to hurt as Mr. Ogleby started ripping apart a sheet from one of the boxes, obviously to use as bandages. Watching as Johns gripped the metal he grit his teeth and let out a grunt as the metal was quickly pulled from his leg. Attempting to hold back his magic he felt sweat start to form on his brow as some cloth was put over the wound and then some pieces of sheet wrapped tightly around everything.

He held back his magic a few moments longer so that the bandages were wet with a decent amount of blood before he let it get to healing him. Hopefully after this he could just wrap his own 'wound' so that no one could find out it was already healed.

Unfortunately he just _knew_ that he was going to be treated like he was made of glass because of this. Sighing he was forced to watch as Mr. Ogleby and Johns got back to searching for some liqueur, no doubt thinking that they could pour some on the wound to disinfect it. This was going to be a _long_ day. At least he had found 2 of the missing passengers, just a captain and a convict to go.

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It seemed that he needn't have worried about either the captain or the convict, because later in the day it was revealed by the Muslim-known as Imam-that the captain had died sometime during the crash. Also, Mr. Johns had apparently gone searching for the convict after helping Mr. Ogleby find his liqueur and had apparently found him and managed to knock him out.

A few things were revealed in that time. Such as the fact that by _long_ day, he hadn't realised that meant a _never ending_ day; as apparently this planet had three suns, which lit the planet at all times. Not only that but he had to pour alcohol over his bandages, just as he predicted and now had to limp everywhere _as well_ as have wet and itchy bandages. But he supposed it was better then being chained as their prisoner once again was.

The prisoner, otherwise known as Riddick, was now manacled to one of the few upright beams within the ship that had survived the crash. He had to admit that the convict interested him, he had heard of some of his deeds from Mr. Johns, the policeman who had captured him (and about that he was doubtful, policemen didn't go after criminals unless it was personal, it was only Mercenaries who tracked down escaped convicts for the prices on their heads. Harry would just have to wait and see how things played out); and apparently Mr. Riddick was quite the dangerous man.

He could also see that he wasn't the only one interested in the criminal, though probably for different reasons. The other person who seemed quite determined to find out as much about Riddick as possible was Jack. Harry could understand the boys need to find out about someone who seemed so dangerous; stowaways, especially when children only became one when they needed to escape the place they were at to survive. For someone like that, Riddick would be the ultimate role model, someone who had survived and was even feared by nearly everyone on the ship just from stories told about his past deeds. It would only be a matter of time before Jack snuck off to go see what Riddick was like in person.

Considering that Harry decided to go have a look himself. He had found that with enough experience in life you could learn to label all different kinds of people simply by how they look or even acted in situations. He knew that if he found a screaming, raging prisoner promising revenge; then the guy wasn't that dangerous, sure he might have killed before but that would be more from luck than anything else. Where as if he found a silent one, then he would know the guy was most likely dangerous (at least to his fellow passengers); as it was always the silent ones that knew what they had to do to survive.

Moving around the ship he kept up his limp, just in case someone was watching. You never knew who could be around the next bend, and it was always better to be safe rather than sorry. So it was he limped through the room he had first met Miss. Fry in, absently noticing that the body was no longer on the floor. Realising he wasn't hearing any sounds at all he lightened his steps automatically, despite the limp, not wanting to attract any attention to himself.

He wanted to see, not be seen.

Coming to one of the most damaged areas of the ship he spotted one lone beam towards the back of the room that was almost joined to the roof, a split near the very top dissected the beam. But it was too high for any normal prisoner to make use of, so he didn't worry.

Taking the long way round, the prisoner finally came into sight. For the first time in a long time Harry felt his eyes widen as his breath hitched, but not from fear. No. There was something about this man that he could almost _see_, just from the way Riddick was chained to the floor with the bit-gag in his mouth, feet chained to the floor and eyes blindfolded. It didn't seem to matter that all of these things should reassure anyone that said man was under control, it just seemed to add to the danger surrounding him, building on Riddick's presence until the man seemed twice as dangerous and just as powerful as any wild animal.

Harry hated being caged and he got the feeling that he wasn't the only one. But where Harry would smash his way out of any place that tried to cage him, he got the feeling that Riddick would do the opposite. He would wait; silent and unassuming until the last moment where suddenly he would take any little opportunity afforded him and use it to escape.

And following Riddicks' gaze through the hole in the blindfold, he realised that the dissected beam the man was chained to was more than a small opportunity, and the conveniently hanging wire which, if used properly could become hot enough to cut through the chains on his feet were Lady Luck's way of saying _'Go on Riddick. Do it if you're willing to pay the price.'_

And there was a price, because even as he watched, Riddick had to force his arms up over his head, dislocating them in the process before re-locating them when bringing them through the cut off beam. He knew from experience that dislocating one's arm is incredibly painful, even more so when one does it to oneself. And yet Riddick didn't allow even a small sound to escape despite being gagged. And after all that, he couldn't allow himself to relax, Riddick had to quickly jump before loosing his balance and grab the handing wire, bringing it down with him, or else have wasted the whole opportunity.

Harry could only nod his head to the absolute determination of this man to escape. It was one thing he definitely understood. When he had been captured by Voldemort, it had either been escape, be tortured or die.

And Harry had always had a problem with dying.

Watching as Riddick cut through the chains, his whole body on high alert for if anyone arrived. Harry refused to move a muscle. He wasn't going to alert anyone to Riddick's escape. As far as he was concerned if Mr. Johns, who had apparently been hunting Riddick down for far too long and was able to make a mistake like this, then Riddick deserved to escape.

Besides, Harry hadn't decided to give everyone his protection simply because he attempted to save them during the crash. In the end it hadn't even been his efforts that had saved them, but rather a dead mans will to sacrifice himself for the others, one whose name he didn't even know.

He watched as Riddick finally stood up, removing the blindfold and the bit-gag, before placing some goggles around his eyes. Harry looked on as Riddick turned and silently made his way towards one of the exits, but just before he exited through the doorway Riddick looked over his shoulder, his masked eyes looking directly at where Harry stood in the shadows. Harry regarded the man before he walked out into the open right were Riddick had been hanging a moment earlier.

"There it is." Harry mumbled to himself as he bent over to pick up his cane. "I wondered where you were." He stated before turning and leaving, completely ignoring Riddicks intimidating figure framed by the light of doorway.

Riddick cocked his head to the side slightly, reminiscent of a curious animal, before he turned and was gone.

Harry grinned as he allowed himself to lean against his cane, as if his leg was still hurt. Moving out of the ship through the ripped apart hull he limped into the sunlight, wondering whether any of them were going to see Riddick again.

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_AN:_

_So what does everyone think? I know there are quite a few places that can be questioned, but all in good time, everything will be revealed._

_This chapter is more to set up Harry's personality, because as I'm sure some of you have guessed, he is Immortal. You'll find out later how and why, although I have no doubt that some of you will get that too :P_

_I have to say I'm thoroughly enjoying writing this. You can tell because this chapter wasn't supposed to be nearly as long as this and I can't promise other chapters will be this long either. They will merely be as long as they need to be for me to get down what I want._

_In any case I would love to hear from everyone; be it praise or criticism. Though I have to say I don't really appreciate flames, so just to warn you, please don't._

_That's all for now. Hope you enjoyed and till next time._

_-night flame miko_


	2. Chapter 2

**Trapped In Black**

By: night flame miko

_**AN:**__ Hello peoples!_

_Man, I had almost forgotten what it was like to start a fic! You know, the steady build up of readers and reviews :D After writing 'An Idle Mind' though, it's kind of nice to just go back to a story that I can write cause I enjoy it. It's scary how much pressure reviews can put on a person :P_

_But I'm really, really enjoying writing this. It's got two potentially wonderful characters that I can build on, and I've got the whole of the 'Pitch Black' plotline to work with! _

_*rubs hands together and cackles evilly*_

_Lets see what can be done with that, eh?_

_**Warning**__**: This is going to be a **__**slash fic**__. In other words, it is going to be a __**boyxboy**__ story. So don't come to me if you ignore this warning, and then get annoyed that you read it and found out too late that it was __**going to be a slash story**__._

_**Disclaimer:**__ I own nothing!_

_Thanks for reading and hope you enjoy!_

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Harry hummed softly to himself, tapping his cane lightly on the ground as he watched the desert landscape around him. There really was nothing better for him to do, considering most of the others had gone off to explore and see if there was any form of life on this planet. The only people to stay behind were Zeke and Shazza who were the two Australian prospectors, as well as himself.

He'd had to stay behind, the others worried about him travelling far on his 'wounded' leg, and the double threat of Riddick going missing. Of course Harry had alerted them to their prisoners' disappearance, considering it would seem slightly suspicious if he didn't. 'Unfortunately' it had taken him quite a while to limp to Mr. Johns and question innocently about where, exactly, the prisoner was supposed to be chained. As Harry had noticed when he went 'looking for his cane' that the prisoner was no-where to be seen.

His question had sent Johns running, and it wasn't too much longer that a stream of curses and the sound of things being thrown could be heard from within the ship. Harry had simply smirked before replacing his expression with worry and then spreading the news to the other survivors, just in case Riddick got a little 'kill happy'.

One could never be too cautious. And he may as well give the others a fighting chance, if Riddick did decide that he wanted them all dead. Of course, Harry personally didn't think Riddick was the type to kill indiscriminately, only when a person/s got between the man and his freedom/survival.

Automatically raising his eyes to the sky when it felt like quite a bit of time had passed, he cursed quietly to himself when he realised that there were 3 suns and that looking at the sky was not going to inform him of how much time had actually passed. Instead all he could do was watch the tiny figure of Zeke begin to dig into the ground near what looked like anthills. The Australian had said something about feeling useless standing around and that he was going to go dig a grave for the Captain and Greg Owens (the man who had died saving the passengers as Harry finally found out). Harry could understand the sentiment; if he didn't entertain himself soon he might hurt something.

Looking for a way to distract himself he sighed when nothing appeared. Instead he turned his attention to his long black pants. The one leg was ruined from the piece of metal and blood that had dried into it and by now the long length and black colour was seriously causing him to be affected by the heat. He was originally going to wait until he could find a way around what was taking his magic as soon as it left his body, but he figured he may as well do something about it now. Even if they were his favourite pair.

Looking around to make sure there was no-one within sight, other than the distant figure of Zeke, he activated the magic in the bands around his wrist, using it to mould the end of his fingers on the one hand into blades. Reaching down with the normal hand he pulled the material away from his leg and began cutting it away with his bladed fingers. Moving quickly he didn't care that he was doing a less than decent job of his pants, preferring to work more for speed than quality. Finishing the one leg he let the material fall to the ground before forming the blades on the opposite hand and going at the other pant leg. When he was done all that was left was some black pants that ended just above the knee-ish, they were too flayed at the bottom to have a definite length.

Shrugging at the fashion disaster he tossed the material away after letting his hand return to normal, absently rubbing at his metal wrist bands as the feeling of activated spell-magic faded. Ever since he got them, the magic in them had created a constant almost pleasant tingling sensation in his wrists. He supposed they worked on this planet, despite its magic sucking atmosphere, because the spells were linked to him. The wrist bands and the spells interwoven in them counted themselves as a part of his body, and so the magic wasn't sucked from him despite them _not actually being_ a part of his body.

He supposed he could only thank whatever higher being that may exist for not being left completely defenceless on this planet. Of course, whether he was defenceless or not mattered little, but he preferred to have _some_ measure of control over the situations that encompassed his life.

Picking up his cane he felt the elder wand within it respond to his touch, humming gently in his grasp. Sighing, he once again began tapping the silver wolf-headed cane against the ground, unconsciously humming in tune with the elder wand as he waited for the others to return.

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It was some time later that the others finally walked over the hill, they shouted a greeting to Zeke, one of the group detaching to go tell him what they found whilst the others made their way down to him. Standing up Harry actually contemplated yelling a greeting to them, but refrained and instead gave a nod when Miss. Fry and Mr. Johns came over to tell him the news.

Cocking a head at them he allowed himself to lean against his cane, thankful that the wound used to be on his right leg so he didn't have to worry about having the cane in the wrong hand.

"So, what did you find?"

He couldn't help asking, despite knowing that they had purposefully paused in telling him just to get him to ask first. He almost felt like shaking a head at their childishness but settled for asking, too impatient with their obviously barely contained excited expressions (on Miss. Fry's part at least).

Fry immediately broke into a wide smile at the question, looking ready to burst into a little jig,

"We found an old Coring station a few miles that way" she indicated in the general direction they arrived from, "and guess what was there?!"

Not giving him time to guess she gave a small bounce whilst excitedly continuing,

"An old emergency transport ship! We just have to prep it up a bit and then we can get off this heat-blasted planet! Which, by the way, is known as Hades."

He blinked at the seemingly random ending sentence before realising they had named the planet Hades, not the ship. Rather an apt name if you asked him, although he would have much preferred calling it 'Hell', considering the heat. But then, not all of Earth's old terminology had survived after its destruction.

Shrugging, he let a small smile make it's way onto his face,

"That's very good news. I don't think any of us could have stood being here much longer."

Fry nodded her head, face completely serious before the excitement seemed to break through once again and she went to find Shazza to tell her the news. Harry grinned slightly before looking at the much more serious visage of Mr. Johns. Seeing the alcohol that the man was drinking, he nodded at it and got a separate bottle tossed at him.

He knew he was going to regret it later, considering the liqueur would only dehydrate him faster, but right now he really, really needed some form of liquid in him. Even sitting in the shade the whole day left him feeling parched, and wondering how in the seven hells the exploration group had managed to travel such a distance in this kind of heat.

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A few hours later found Harry once again resting in the shade as the others rummaged through and around the ship, looking for pieces of metal that could possible be used to help fix up their emergency transport ship and get it back into working condition. Harry had offered and even attempted to help the others, but he was the survivor most 'injured' and unfortunately it meant that they were always treating him, as he predicted, as if he might break at the slightest bit of physical labour.

It didn't help that it was his leg that was damaged either, otherwise he could claim that doing 'so and so' didn't hurt whatever it was. Sadly, everything should hurt a leg that at one point had a foot long piece of metal sticking out of it. Or so Imam claimed, Mr. Ogleby seconding that.

About to get back to counting anthills he was distracted by four shots sounding behind him, on the other side of the ship. Grabbing his cane he limped quickly around the ship, wondering whether Riddick had appeared. His question was answered when he saw Zeke standing horrified, staring at the dead body of what appeared to be another survivor from one of the other compartments.

Zeke looked over to him, his hands shaking on the gun,

"I though he was Riddick…I thought he was Riddick…I thought…he was…"

Nodding at the obviously affected man, he simply led him away. Knowing that Zeke, who had probably never killed before, would find something like this difficult. Be it an accident or not.

Zeke accepted some of the alcohol offered him, and Harry simply talked about nothing for a while, knowing that Zeke wasn't listening to his words but needed the sound of a calming voice. Harry honestly couldn't say he was that surprised when Zeke abruptly stood up and disappeared before re-appearing carrying a shovel and the mans body over his shoulder. Every person needed a way to distract themselves after a death, and if Zeke needed to dig the man a grave to do that. Then so be it.

Sitting in the shade for a while he watched the small figure of Zeke disappear as he dropped into his large grave, knowing that now it was only going to get bigger. He was about to go and check on the others who had been there during the accident, when his attention was snapped back to the anthills, dragged there by the horrific screams and gunshots sounding from that direction. Picking up his cane he was about to go investigate when the screams cut off mid-sound. Realising that was never a good thing he began limping as fast as he could in that direction, knowing that he was already too late. Johns ran past him, heading straight for where Zeke had been digging.

Moving after him Harry arrived in amongst the hills a few minutes later to the sounds of enraged shouts and figures dashing in and out of the sand towers. Turning his attention to the hole that Zeke was digging before his obvious demise he looked down only to spot what looked like a man sized tunnel in the side of Zeke's man-made hole, but that wasn't what was most prominent about the tunnel, but rather the large amounts of blood (too much blood) splashed liberally around the entrance and what could be seen inside of it before the darkness hid everything else.

Harry contemplated that for a while, staring at the bloody entrance to the 'natural' tunnel, before finally looking up and staring at the anthills that surrounded this area. He could only wonder if maybe everyone had been a bit hasty to assume that they were the last living things on this dead planet.

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He found out later that the enraged shouts had been caused by Shazza, her having headed towards Zeke right before the screams started but still arrived too late. But when she looked up she had seen Riddick standing across from her looking down into the grave at the bloody tunnel.

She had immediately assumed the worst (who could blame her?) and had begun screaming and had gone after Riddick. Apparently the man would have made it away easily if Johns hadn't hidden behind an anthill and tripped him up as he went past before ripping off Riddick's goggles, causing the convict to be effectively incapacitated.

This had been quite a while ago and now Riddick was once again chained inside the ship, though Harry assumed this time would be more effective then the last time. It was at a time like this that Harry seriously wished that he could use his magic, if not to lighten the heat a little bit, then to at least distract himself from the all to appealing thought of going to watch Riddick again.

There was just something about the man that was pulling at Harry. Even at this very moment, as he sat with his back to the ship, watching the Muslims pray once again and Shazza wander about looking lost and confused whilst Johns and Miss. Fry seemingly got into an argument. All of this was partially lost to Harry as his whole center of focus was on what lay behind him.

That attention was distracted though, when he saw Miss. Fry marching towards the ship in a very determined way, and Harry realised that she was going to go confront Riddick, most likely about Zeke's death. Harry stood up himself with the realisation. If others could go confront Riddick (which would be a completely foolish venture, if you asked Harry), then why couldn't he go and at least watch the man?

Limping at a much slower pace after Miss. Fry, he followed the sounds of footsteps and then talking, arriving to the image of Fry slowly walking a few steps closer to Riddick, who had his eyes shut.

"Closer."

Harry started slightly at the deep, rough voice; almost as if it wasn't used often enough to have been smoothed by time. He watched as Fry took a few steps even closer to Riddick's form before Riddick suddenly lunged at her and she startled back, staring deep into his reflective eyes. Even from the distance Harry was at he could tell that looking into them would be a potentially terrifying experience, those mirror-like eyes reflecting how Riddick saw everyone: as Prey.

There was a small smirk playing on Riddick's face as he slowly let himself sit back, still holding Miss. Fry's gaze. She took a shuddering breath, closing her eyes before releasing the breath in a drawn out sigh and slowly re-opening them,

"What do you want from me, Riddick? Do you want to know that you scare me? Because you do."

Riddick let out a bark of his version of laughter before shaking his head slowly, looking something dangerous even as he sat almost proudly on his twisted metal throne, his arms stretched out away from his sides, so that he couldn't use them to free himself.

"All of you so fear me, and any normal day I'd take that as a compliment, but it aint me you gotta worry about any more."

Settling back Riddick closed his eyes, giving a clear dismissal. Fry tried asking a few more questions, but that seemed to be Riddick's quota of the day, as she got nothing more out of him. Finally she left, looking just as, if not more determined then when she arrived. Shaking his head slightly, he wondered whether Miss. Fry got the answers she was looking for, despite Riddick's silence.

Deciding he had had enough of watching, Harry stepped around the metal he had been leaning against whilst he watched everything. Slowly Riddick raised his head and cocked it to the side at the sight of who was coming towards him, before the convict smirked slightly.

"So you finally decided to come out and play?"

Walking until he was in front of Riddick, Harry let himself sit down and lean against the jumbled mass of ship parts behind himself, his cloak spreading itself on the ground under and around him, before finally looking up at Riddick. Said convict seemed surprised, and Harry didn't blame him. Riddick was the type of wild man that made people _need_ to put themselves on a level footing with him. By putting himself below Riddick he was implying that a) he was submissive or b) he didn't fear Riddick at all and as such had no need to prove himself.

It was, of course, b.

But Riddick didn't know that, and he looked intent trying to figure it out. Harry, in turn, simply shrugged before answering the previous question,

"I'm not sure I feel like playing with you," here he let a slightly quirky smile pass his lips, "maybe another time. For now I'm quite happy with talking."

Riddick's eyes widened slightly before he let that bark-laugh escape once more, and Harry felt a small thrill that he had caused it. He had the feeling that Riddick didn't laugh a lot, especially not for a real reason. Unlike when he laughed at people for their fear (like with Miss. Fry).

Raising and lowering his shoulders, Riddick again cocked his head to the side,

"So what d'ya want to talk about?" Here his face took on a slightly sardonic expression, "About me killin' that guy in the hole?"

This time it was Harry's turn to chuckle slightly, eyes shut as he enjoyed the feeling, not noticing Riddick's slightly widened eyes before they returned to a normal, if not less intense expression,

"Oh who are you trying to kid Riddick?" Harry asked, "You didn't kill Zeke; you're not the kind to involve lots of screaming and blood in your murders. No, if you killed Zeke we probably wouldn't have even known or suspected anything until we either found his dead body or he didn't turn up for too long a time."

Opening his eyes it was to Riddick's head tilted slightly to the side, a curious expression on his face as he tried to label Harry.

"Hmm, you seem to have me down pretty well. And here I don't even know your name." There was a quirk to his lips, as if Riddick was annoyed at himself for not having known the name of his potential enemy. Harry solved that problem as he replied whilst he let his head rest back against the machinery behind himself and looked up at the ships twisted roof;

"Harry J. Potter-Black."

"Hmm."

Harry felt a rush at not looking at Riddick, and not only that, but by leaning back and tilting his head upwards as he was, was exposing his throat. And there was something, not quite _terrifying_, more like a _thrill_ caused by putting himself in such a vulnerable position before a predator like Riddick. It didn't matter that Riddick was chained down or that Harry couldn't die, he still had all the instincts of a normal human, and right now every one of them was calling him an idiot. And Harry loved it.

He hadn't found someone who could inspire those instincts in _such_ a long time.

Harry heard the sound of a deep intake of air. Lowering his head he looked back at Riddick, only to see the man's mirror-eyes half hooded as the eyes traced their way over Harry's sitting form. Small goose bumps formed on his skin, despite the humid air and a small thrill shot through him again, even though he could tell there was nothing behind the look but a predator smelling out weakness in its potential prey.

Finally Riddick's gaze landed on the now-visible bandage wrapped around his leg,

"I smell blood, not quite fresh but still…(another deep breath)…new." There was a gleam in Riddick's eyes that hadn't been there earlier, the look of a predator starting the hunt of its wounded enemy, or its weakened prey. Most would have found a reason to quickly leave at that look directed at themselves but instead Harry simply watched Riddick, enjoying the feeling before waving dismissively,

"It was just a cut. Nothing to worry about."

And to him that was the truth, he had much worse than that pole sticking out of his leg in his lifetime. Of course for Harry it was nothing. But apparently to Jack, who had been listening in the whole time; it was more than just that.

"Just a cut!"

Jack seemed unperturbed at having the attention of two men like Harry and Riddick on himself and simply got up from where he had been eavesdropping on a stairway leading to the one level up in the ship. Moving off the stairway he waved around a piece of metal that Harry felt he should recognise,

"You had _this thing_ sticking _halfway_ out of your _leg_! And you call it _just _a_ cut_!"

Now Harry recognised it, and he wondered whether he should be amused or vaguely disturbed that Jack was keeping that piece of metal. He felt someone looking at him and turning his head to meet Riddick's eyes, said mans eyebrow slightly raised in a movement reminiscent of Harry himself.

Harry simply shrugged and repeated,

"Like I said, just a cut."

Riddick's second eyebrow joined the first and Jack let out a huff, seeming quite put out that Harry wasn't making more out of such a wound. Finally Riddick turned his attention to Jack and said boy started slightly, getting a good look at Riddick's eyes,

"Where could I get eyes like _that_."

Riddick shrugged dismissively, "You gotta kill a few people."

"I could do that." Jack responded immediately

This time Jack seemed to have vaguely caught Riddick's attention as he tilted his head slightly, regarding Jack before giving a bit more information,

"Then you gotta get thrown in a slam where they tell you that you ain't ever gonna see light again. Then you gotta dig up a doctor and give him 20 Menthol Kools for a shine job on your eyes."

Jack looked fascinated and not at all dissuaded, "So you can see people sneakin' up on you at night."

It wasn't a question but Riddick responded anyway, a slight smirk on his lips,

"Exactly."

Harry looked between the two, not at all disturbed as most might be at the conversation, but rather interested in Jack. Something kept catching his attention about the boy and he couldn't quite place a finger on it…It was the way the boy talked and situated himself, it almost seemed forced. Tilting his head he regarded Jack again, but still couldn't quite get it. He decided to keep an eye on Jack, to see if he could pin point what, exactly, his senses were screaming at him.

Riddick seemed to look at the two people before him, one sitting dismissively on the floor and the other standing with his arms crossed, a defiant look on his face.

"What are you two doing here?"

The question seemed to escape him before he could stop it, but once it was out he internally shrugged. If you can't figure it out on your own, then go the direct route.

Jack seemed lost for words but Harry just blinked before shrugging,

"He wants tobe you and I'm fascinated by you."

Jack spluttered but Riddick just tipped his head slightly before letting out a 'Hmm.'

They both watched as Jack pulled himself together before stating, "I'm gonna go outside. There's prob'ly more interestin' stuff out there anyway."

Riddick and Harry watched him leave, with the former commenting just before Jack was out of sight, "Cute kid."

Grinning slightly as the pouting almost-teen disappeared from sight, he remembered when he was like that, but the grin was slowly wiped from his face as he remembered everything that came with his teenage-hood, e.g. Voldemort. Sighing he thought about how far he had come since then and how much he now knew, but when you have the kind of time he did, there really was nothing better to do then learn. Sure he had done things just for fun as well, but in reality, things are only fun the first couple hundred times round.

"So you're fascinated by me, hmm?"

He turned to look at Riddick at the question, but before he could even formulate a reply Riddick continued. "So is that why you waited to raise the alarm when I escaped earlier? Because you're _fascinated_ by me?" Riddick practically purred the word 'fascinated', his eyes gleaming in the vague light.

Harry grinned slightly but shook his head, "No, that's not why I waited to raise the alarm. I did _that_ because I…admire the will to put yourself through anything to escape. I wasn't about to ruin your chances because of bad timing."

The gleam dimmed slightly but was replaced with a different kind of light as Riddick leaned forward, the chains rattling with the movement.

"You _admire_ my escape? Why? Just because I was willing to put myself through a little pain to avoid imprisonment?" The scorn was obvious in Riddick's voice at the idea of pain dissuading him from freedom, but there was curiosity there too. Riddick truly wanted to know what Harry thought and why. That was the only reason Harry even considered replying.

Harry cocked his head, thinking about the question before choosing how to reply, "Not really, I can understand putting yourself through some pain to get away. Pain is nothing when in that kind of situation…" His voice took on a slightly reminiscent tone causing Riddick to lean forward even further, the light in his eyes becoming sharper as he scanned the figure in front of him with increasing interest. "…It was more your pure determination…I suppose 'admire' was the wrong word to choose, rather…I could…relate? Yes, I could _relate_ to your situation, and wasn't about to ruin it when I know what can prompt such determination to be free…"

Harry looked up only to blink at how far forward Riddick was leaning and with such an intense light in his reflective eyes. Harry got the feeling that Riddick was peeling back the layers of his personality. Trying to figure out what made Harry tick, and Harry could honestly say he didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

The predator worked best when it knew the habits of its prey. And Harry didn't like being viewed as _prey_; he _just_ wanted to be Harry. Why did everyone struggle so much with that concept? Even in the years after Voldemorts' and eventually even Earths' demise changed nothing. People always treated him differently, if because of the way he dressed or what he did as a job. It didn't matter. He was never _just_ Harry, and it didn't look like this time would be any different.

Staring into Riddick's eyes he wondered if he should just give up. All these years it had been the one thing he looked for, and the one thing he never achieved. Maybe when he stopped searching, what he was looking for would just come to him? About to withdraw, and leave this as a lost cause, he stopped as something in the way Riddick looked at him changed. Harry had no idea what, as it wasn't like Riddick had changed position or even blinked. But it was less like Riddick was hunting for weaknesses and more like he was curious about what he was seeing, as if he wanted to know _why_ Harry acted the way he did. As if he wanted to know what Harry was doing, going to do and why he was going to do it because it interested him, and for no other ulterior motive.

He blinked and the moment passed. Riddick leaned back, once again wearing the self assured air of someone who knew the intricacies of life and how to work with and around it. Releasing the air he had been holding, Harry let himself lean back against the metal once again, having moved unconsciously forward when he had been searching for his answers. Letting his eyes close Harry felt a small smile cross his lips, which steadily grew into a grin, which increased into a chuckle and finally full blown laughter.

He knew Riddick was wondering about the laughter, but Harry couldn't stop. He laughed like he hadn't in years, because for the first time since he started looking, Harry had a feeling that he had finally found what he had been searching for this entire time. And it lay with a not-so-escaped convict known as Riddick.

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_**An**:_

_And here is the next chapter! I know. Even I'm surprised with how quickly this chapter came out, I honestly wasn't planning on writing this next bit for a while. But it was like an itch, the type of itch that I couldn't scratch until I had written and put down into words what I had spent the better part of a day thinking about. :P_

_So here it is, and thank you to all of those who had reviewed. I am glad that I've caught the attention of a few people :D_

_I can honestly say that I am really enjoying writing this (and even reading it, I have a habit of re-reading my works until I'm absolutely happy with it), and I hope you enjoy reading it._

_Till the next chapter,_

_-night flame miko_

_p.s. If you ask any questions, I will answer them to the best of my abilities, but if I don't reply to any questions it's most likely because they're going to be answered pretty soon anyway. But if you have any criticisms please go ahead, I love trying to better my writing, it's one of the reasons for all my stories :)_


	3. Chapter 3

**Trapped In Black**

By: night flame miko

_**AN:**__ Well here's the next chapter everyone!_

_This chapter was a bit annoying, you want to know why? Well, you see, I had been dead set on this whole fic being from Harry's point view. I just wanted it that way, and I know I have a habit of switching characters to get their views as well. So I thought to myself, 'Not this time, this time it will _all_ be from one POV.'_

_But it seems that habit is just going to have to continue, because no matter how much I tried to view the next scenes from Harry's POV, I kept getting distracted and started thinking it through in Riddick's POV._

_So here we go._

_I hope I don't seriously screw up Riddick's character, but I'll try my best to keep him as IC throughout this chapter as possible._

_**Warning**__**: This is going to be a **__**slash fic**__. In other words, it is going to be a __**boyxboy**__ story. So don't come to me if you ignore this warning, and then get annoyed that you read it and found out too late that it was __**going to be a slash story**__._

_**Disclaimer:**__ I own nothing!_

_Also thank you to everyone for their wonderful reviews last chapter! They are much appreciated! :P_

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Riddick honestly didn't know what to make of the laughing man in front of him. This self proclaimed 'Harry J. Potter-Black'.

Riddick, even in his relatively short years, had travelled a lot. He had seen _all_ kinds of people. But never had he met someone quite as…_interesting_ as this…'Harry'. And he could also honestly say that the guys' parents must have been on some kind of crack to name their kid 'Harry'.

Normally parents are pretty close, if not spot on with their kids' names. More often than not he could tell a lot about a person simply from their name. Like William J. Johns, that name has a fair amount of strength behind it, and is quite close to the actual persons character.

Not like Harry, and this guy in front of him is definitely not a 'Harry'.

Tilting his head to the side, Riddick listened and watched as _Black_ laughed (he refused to underestimate people, and if that meant re-naming them so that their namesuited their character better, then so be it). Black was a fascinating person to both listen to, and definitely to watch. It was easy to see how he differed from most other people, at least in Riddick's eyes.

From the second Black had walked into his sight earlier, until now, he could see the difference like a blazing sun compared to a candle's flame. Where other people had an inner light about them (one he had always assumed to be their body heat), Black had a veritable sun trapped beneath his skin, and yet it didn't hurt to look at him. In fact it was almost soothing to see that light ripple beneath Black's skin. Not only that, but where everything Riddick saw was in shades of purple and white-ish light, Black's eyes shone the most luminous green he had seen since before his operation. Riddick had almost forgotten what green even _looked_ like. And that wasn't all. Riddick had long since associated heat with the white he could see, and so wasn't surprised by the light that people gave off. But _never _before had he seen _objects _give off that same light, and just looking at the silver shimmering cloak, ring and cane, caused Riddick to re-evaluate everything he thought he knew about his sight.

But that was for another time, right now he was listening to Black's fascinating laughter, trying to examine exactly what he was hearing; it was almost like Black was switching between being relieved and ecstatic. Though Riddick had no fucking clue on what the guy could be relieved about. One second Black is looking into Riddick's eyes as if the answers to life's mysteries are there, the next he looks disappointed (in Riddick? Not likely), and then suddenly something changes and Black is laughing his head off.

Riddick could only wonder whether he's finally met his first honest-to-God crazy person.

Sure he's met a few insane people in his time, those who are a bit cracked in the head. Usually from being in prison too long. But he couldn't quite say he'd met a true crazy person…until now.

Leaning back Riddick took some of the stress of the chains off his arms, letting him focus his whole attention on the man in front of him. When he'd first seen Black he'd had him categorised almost immediately. Well, when he had first _sensed_ Black, he had him categorised.

Of course he had known the man was there, watching the whole time as he had made his escape. Riddick wouldn't have gone through with it if he hadn't already begun before he sensed the man. And fuck, if that wasn't something he was kicking himself over. I mean, to allow some prissy rich kid (judging by the cloak and cane) to sneak up on him? Unacceptable.

But he had already started dislocating his arms when he first sensed the guy, and there was really nothing to do but try to get done as quickly as possible and hopefully shut the guy up before he let out a warning.

But he hadn't needed to. The guy hadn't made a sound the whole way through his escape, hadn't even moved an inch towards one of the exits. Riddick had wondered for a few seconds before re-categorising him as someone who would attempt to blackmail him with his escape, probably say he'll call in Johns if Riddick didn't do something for him. Not that Riddick would let him.

But even when he was finally free, absolutely nothing happened.

This was when Riddick was at a bit of a quandary, should he, or should he not kill the guy before said guy did something to prevent his escape? Removing his blindfold and bit-gag he decided to test the guy one last time. And so placing his goggles over his eyes, Riddick had made for the exit, waiting for some sign from the guy that he was going to be stopped. But there was none, and finally not even Riddick could help himself.

Turning in the doorway he'd looked at the guy, wanting to see what kind of a person would let him escape.

At first Riddick hadn't been able to quite see him, but then the guy had moved to where Riddick had been chained and his eyes had immediately locked onto the movement. Walking forward slightly the man had picked up a wolf headed cane that Riddick _swore_ hadn't been there five seconds ago, and after mumbling about looking for his cane, he had limped out. As if he couldn't even see Riddick standing there, in the doorway, watching him. Riddick blamed the goggles for not noticing how _brightly_ the man shone before now, it was the whole reason he had them in the first place, after all.

When the guy had essentially ignored him, Riddick hadn't known whether to be insulted, amused or intrigued. In the end he went for a bit of everything. So deciding to investigate, he ran outside a short way before tossing the bit-gag in a random direction (one which had some decent hills in the distance) then he had quickly made his way back. Scaling up onto the roof of the ship, he had gone to watch the young man who had been watching him.

And watch he did. He saw as the guy limped, ever-so-slowly towards Johns before 'innocently' asking about where the prisoner was supposed to be. He had seen the guy watch Johns take off for the ship and he had seen the smirk that had crossed the young mans face when Johns had his temper tantrum inside the vessel.

Riddick hadn't known then what to make of the man, and he still had no fucking clue now.

Looking down on Black as the laughter finally started to decrease, he shook his head. When Black had first arrived he had sat down in front of Riddick, and Riddick had assumed that the guy was trying to make a point, trying to say 'See, I'm not scared of you' instead of what most others did (when Riddick was safely chained anyway). They usually stood on eye level with him, making contact as if trying to say, 'See, I am just as strong as you'.

It only took a few seconds to realise he was wrong.

Black wasn't sitting there because he was trying to make some kind of a point, either to himself or Riddick. The man had sat down in front of Riddick because it was comfortable, because he didn't feel like standing, or some similar reason. He wasn't making a point; he simply did not count Riddick as enough of a threat to need to.

Riddick knew he should feel angry about the dismissal, he wasn't a weak person at all, and he knew it. But there was just _something_ about Black. Some kind of lazy grace and slight scent of power that he wore as easily as that silver cloak, and that was what held Riddick in check. Even now Riddicks' instincts were screaming at him to 'Beware!', and whilst he couldn't see what it was that would put them on high alert like this, he wasn't about to ignore it.

His instincts had been right every time before.

So instead he watched, and he talked. Curious about the man but willing to put aside curiosity for the sake of survival, because as much as it grated him; right now he wasn't much of a threat to anyone.

At least until he escaped again.

There were some highlights to the talk though, like at the beginning where Black had looked up and bared that delicate throat of his. Normally when someone puts himself in such a 'kill position', Riddick would either immediately take advantage of it or feel the deep urge to.

But not this time. This time when that head leaned back and Black's throat was exposed he didn't feel any kind of urge to take advantage of the position, instead every animal instinct in Riddick almost purred at the chance to see someone they consider as another 'Alpha' in a bared-throat position.

To say Riddick was confused would be the understatement of the century.

He had met other Alpha's before, and Every. Single. Time. He had had the urge to prove himself the powerful one, the dominant one.

Yet not this time.

This time he felt almost…_comfortable_ enough to trust that the other Alpha wouldn't try anything. And Riddick didn't feel comfortable with _anyone_.

But that wasn't the only highlight. The other was when the child came out, and it was later revealed that Black was _fascinated_ by him. All his senses had perked up at the statement, and he had felt an almost uncommon awareness towards the other directly afterwards. And for once that interest wasn't in how quickly he could kill the object of his attention.

And Black certainly had his attention. Even now, as he leaned back and watched Black grin with his half-hooded, bright eyes. It seemed the man was simply basking in the afterglow of his laughter and Riddick couldn't help studying him, letting his eyes take in the shredded bottoms of the black pants, the wolf-headed cane and a black stone set in a silver ring on Black's left hand, and of course the trapped sun glowing beneath everything.

The whole ensemble was a contradiction. He wore expensive clothes (the black material was obviously fine, even with the bright inner light and shredded as they were Riddick could see that) and had valuable jewellery, as well as a silver wolf-headed cane that somehow shone despite being inanimate and not having any heat of its own. And yet Black sat on the silver cloak as if he didn't care that he might possibly rip or damage the material, the pants had been taken apart with little care and the cane had been dropped next to him with nary a glance.

And even without the walking contradiction, there was just something _about_ Black. The way he held himself and that slightly quirky smile as if he was in on a private joke. As if he were…laughing at the world?…except that was the wrong way to term it. More like, he was…_proud_ of the world, proud of what it had become. In the same way a parent would take pride in a child and its accomplishments.

Riddick let himself think about this awhile before both men were pulled out of their thoughts as Johns strode into the room, looking quite ruffled and determined to put up an uncaring face before Riddick. He just smirked at the man before speaking,

"Finally figured out there's somethin' worse than me out there?"

Black snorted, pulling Johns attention from where it had fixed itself on Riddick. In all honesty, Riddick would admit that Johns had learnt well. When you were 'alone' (as Johns had thought until Black snorted) with Riddick, your attention must never drift from said convict, because otherwise bad things tended to happen. Usually very bad things.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

Johns asked Black, looking slightly angry that someone would be alone with Riddick for any extended period of time. "Do you know how dangerous this guy is? You shouldn't be anywhere near him, even when he _is_ in chains."

Black tilted his head, seeming to ponder Johns words before shrugging slightly, causing the silver fabric of his cloak to shift and pool around him further, like water made of shimmering light.

"Of course he's dangerous. But why would he try to harm _me_? It's not like in my poor, damaged state I would be much opposition for him if he tried to escape. It's not like I would _try_ to be opposition for him if he tried to escape, considering my _poor_, _damaged_, state."

This time it was Riddick who snorted lightly at Black's tone. He could tell all too easily just how Black was being treated for his injury. Being the only one out of all the survivors to have a wound, as well as a potentially permanent one, would have caused a pack mentality within the group. Something along the lines of 'surround and protect the weakest link'. For a strong character like Black, who seemed to have a quiet but powerful pride about him, being treated as if he were an invalid would probably cause quite a bit of anger if not resentment.

All that was holding these people together was their united goal of getting off this planet, but throw in some danger and the possibility of death and this whole twisted little family of theirs was going to fall apart at the seams.

The sound, though, redirected Johns attention towards Riddick and the man started tapping his gun against his thigh distractedly before seemingly coming to a decision,

"You know about the things under the anthills. That killed Zeke."

He paused but Riddick didn't reply, he simply stared at Johns, that knowing half-smirk resting across his lips. Johns glared and gripped his gun, refusing any more anxious movement. "I have enough trouble keeping track of one killer; I don't need to be adding monsters to the mix. So here's the deal Riddick, no killing anyone, no hurting anyone and no weapons, especially no shivs. If I let you loose I want you to help us get off this god-forsaken rock of a planet."

Riddick cocked a brow, looking vaguely curious.

"Oh? And you think I'm gonna help _you_, outta the goodness of my heart? Not likely. What are you gonna give _me_ for helping you out, Johns?"

Johns lips twisted into a sneer before his expression hardened,

"I think it'll be safe to say that Riddick died in the crash." He refused to elaborate, but Riddick was all too willing to spell it out for their unanticipated audience (not as though Black didn't understand).

"Are you saying you'll let me go Johns? Even with the…rather large price on my head? It would probably be better for you to Ghost me Johns, 'cause I'm not believing a thing your saying."

Johns grit his teeth before exhaling deeply. Riddick wasn't stupid, he realised that Johns was going to try to double cross him at some point, but he also knew that Johns couldn't afford to kill him. Not because Riddick would be more useful alive, but because the other survivors would view it as the cold-blooded murder it truly was, rather than in self-defence; which Johns could claim later if he just let Riddick loose now.

But of course, that's not what Johns could say, so he sucked in his pride and instead started weaving the lie that no-one in that room believed,

"Look Riddick. The truth is I don't feel like chasing you down anymore. I've hunted you across the universe and can honestly say I'm getting tired of it. Also I don't know what those _things_ are, but I know we're going to need every available man to fight them if they decide to come up above their little hidey-holes. So I figure, rather have you on our side then against it or dead. If that means that I have to say you died somewhere on this planet rather than collecting the money on your head, then so be it."

Riddick grinned, baring his teeth in the movement. "There you go Johns, was that so hard?" Unfortunately this seemed to be the wrong thing to say as Johns eyebrows snapped down and he pointed the gun at Riddick and fired.

Black, who had been watching everything with a kind of vague interest, blinked as he looked at Riddick who had slumped forward with the shot. Not because Johns had shot him, but rather he had shot the long chain which had run behind Riddick, connecting his hands together but also wrapped around some metal, forcing them apart.

Slowly Riddick stood and Johns held his goggles in one hand and his gun to Riddick's chest with the other. Johns pushed lightly on the gun whilst he looked deep into Riddicks eyes,

"I want you to remember this moment Riddick, and how it could've gone. Don't go thinking you can just-"

For the first time, something like anger had flashed in Riddick's eyes and in a series of fast movements the tables were quickly turned, with Riddick standing with the gun pointed between Johns eyes and his finger a hairsbreadth from the trigger. For an eternity it seemed like Riddick was going to shoot before he finally stated in a soft but no less deadly voice,

"I want you to remember this moment."

Lowering the gun he reached out and yanked the goggles from Johns hand before tossing the gun at its owner. Johns caught it reflexively and they both seemed to be once again having a war of dominance.

So of course that was the moment Black chose to pipe up,

"Hey Johns, would you mind helping me up? Being my _poor_ and _damaged_ self, I'm struggling a bit."

Both sets of eyes snapped to Black who was holding out a hand and grinning shamelessly, seeming uncaring of the situation he had stepped into. Johns simply snorted before turning and walking away, saying over his shoulder,

"You've survived this long, I'm sure if you work hard enough you could find the will to stand up by yourself."

Black simply snorted, beginning to lower his hand when Riddick reached out and gripped it causing Black's glowing green eyes to snap up to his. Though, Riddick noted, it wasn't the wide-eyed look he had expected, but rather one of curiosity. Riddick smirked and decided to enlighten him,

"Being as _poor_ and _damaged_ as you are, you might hurt yourself on the way up."

The grin Riddick let loose was all teeth and Black smiled that quirky smile, the one that seemed a mix between amusement and exasperation.

"You young people today. No respect for your injured."

Pulling Black up easily (Riddick couldn't help noticing how slight the man was compared to him, where Riddick was all muscle and brawn, Black was more lithe and agile) the young man stood before letting go of his hand and replacing it with the shining cane. Riddick watched as Black set himself before beginning to walk away, Riddick keeping pace with the over-exaggerated limping easily.

"Me? Young? What about you, you could only be in your late 20's, early 30's." Riddick stated.

Black grinned slightly but the expression didn't reach his eyes.

"Actually you're right, I'm 28, but mentally I feel like I'm well into my thousands."

There was something behind that statement that caught Riddick's attention, but he couldn't pin point what, exactly, it was. Deciding to think on it later, he allowed himself to shrug,

"I know what you mean. Sometimes I feel too fucking old for my body."

Black's green-eyed gaze swept over Riddick and something primal rose its head as the once over travelled leisurely from head to toe, a heat forming in Riddick that hadn't shown itself in a _long_ time. Black didn't seem to notice the reaction, simply looking forward as that quirky smile appeared once more on his lips,

"Hmm. I'm not too sure. Your body looks just the right age to me."

Raising an eyebrow Riddick smirked slightly as they exited the ship.

If that's the way Black wanted to play, then so be it. Riddick was always up for a challenge.

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_An:_

_Hey everyone._

_Sorry I took a bit longer getting this one up, I'm actually a little annoyed. I've had this done since a day after the last chapter was updated, but I had forgotten that Riddick see's everything in purples and whites. So I had to go through the chapter and edit it so that this would make sense when I start tying stuff in later._

_But in any case, here is the next chapter, I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it._

_And please, tell me what you think. Reviews are an Authors oxygen, we couldn't survive without the stuff :P_

_-night flame miko_

10


	4. Chapter 4

Trapped In Black

By: night flame miko

_**AN:**__ And the next chapter is...up!_

_Well almost. I tend to write this Authors Note before I start on the chapter, so it isn't quite up yet. And even __**I**__ don't know how this is going to go. I find that the good stories tend to pop out at me as I'm writing them, hell they often almost write themselves :D_

_I wish._

_In any case, here it is. I hope you enjoy it as much as I'm sure I'm going to have fun writing it. :D_

_**Warning**__**: This is going to be a**__**slash fic.**__** Refer to previous chapters for full warning.**__ (figured everyone got the idea from the previous three chapters :P)_

_**Disclaimer:**__ No Harry Potter and especially no Riddick *pouts*. I suppose we can't always get what we want, eh? :P_

_And thank you to everyone who reviewed, I loved all of them and they were definitely a breath of fresh oxygen (hehe). :)_

_----------------------------------------------_

Harry limped along behind everybody, putting on just enough speed to not fall too far behind. It had almost been too much effort to get the others to 'allow' him to walk with them to the mining camp, and whilst he was tempted to slow them down in retaliation he realised they would probably just do something humiliating. Like carry him the rest of the way there whilst making comments about being right all along…

Not going to happen.

It had been a day's worth of time since Riddick had been released, and whilst the others weren't happy about it they also realised the prudence in not mentioning it around Riddick and just generally keeping their distance from the criminal.

Not like it was hard considering Riddick disappeared soon after being released, only re-appearing when enough metal parts had been collected and they were about to begin their journey back to the mining camp.

Johns had then decided to assign Riddick as the resident pack mule and asked the man to carry the 35 kilo Energy Core which they would use to determine how much power the emergency ship needed and how many more En-core's they had to lug back and forth between ships. For some reason Riddick didn't refuse, simply taking the rope which he would use to drag the En-core across the desert like landscape.

Johns had smirked, thinking he had made a point to the other passengers about how short a leash Riddick was on.

Personally Harry thought Riddick had only done it because he was making his own point. He knew it would make the others think, for if the criminal was strong enough to carry that En-core the distance between ships without asking for help, or in fact showing any form of tiredness at all, then he was simply proving how dangerous he was to all the other survivors.

Which brought them back to this moment in time, with Harry trudging just a few paces ahead of Riddick, who was keeping to the back of the group as well. Both of them could hear the quiet talking in front of them by the others, and whilst Harry didn't mind being talked about, it still irked him that he couldn't use his magic to eavesdrop. He had already tried to use a spell that enhanced his hearing (an internal spell which was therefore not affected by whatever it was on Hades that was absorbing it), and the spell had worked perfectly. Except for the fact that whatever lived within this planet apparently used echo-location to 'see' and the sounds reverberating from beneath the ground nearly deafened him.

Moving over yet another sand dune Harry blinked as what looked like a bottle of alcohol slipped past him and down the shallow sand bank. A muffled curse reached his ears and he watched as Mr. Ogleby scrambled past, dropping to his knee's next to the bottle and reaching for it only to have another hand clamp around it and lift it up.

Harry limped back down, watching with vague amusement as Mr. Ogleby looked up, eyes wide and his Adams apple moving when he gulped. He could practically see the antiques collector (as Mr. Ogleby had later informed everyone when he came out of what was left of the ship carrying some very…interesting objects) summon whatever courage he had as he stood up before thrusting a hand at Riddick.

"Paris P. Ogleby. Antique's dealer. Entrepreneur."

Riddick considered the man before he smiled in a way that showed his teeth and gripped the extended hand, pumping it once.

"Richard B. Riddick. Escaped convict. Murderer."

Dropping the hand Riddick uncorked the bottle of alcohol and despite Paris' attempts to stop him he began drinking the liquid, seemingly proving another point as Mr. Ogleby's words slowed to a stop.

Normally Harry would have just smirked and gone on, but looking at the bottle he blinked in surprise.

"Hmm? Well that brings back memories."

Riddick, who had nearly finished the alcohol, pulled the bottle from his lips and looked at the label with a raised eyebrow before turning to Harry who shrugged and said with a smile,

"It was the alcohol I drank the first time I got completely shit-faced drunk."

A second eyebrow joined Riddick's first before he held the bottle out to Harry, that smirk back on his face as they both completely ignored Paris standing off to the side, looking mournfully at the almost finished drink.

"Care to reminisce?"

Harry cocked his head to the side before grinning slightly and taking the bottle from Riddick. Downing the final inches at the bottom he ignored the antique's dealer who was staring at the empty bottle with something like tragic resignation.

Turning Harry began walking as Mr. Ogleby started to make his way after the others who had paused a little way in the distance, Riddick kept pace with Harry easily as said man remembered the whole episode that occurred when he first got drunk.

It had taken place a good 5 millennia ago. Harry had been on an out of the way planet whose civilisation was just starting to flourish. He'd been having an especially bad couple of years, as he was going through an identity crises at the time and had decided that considering he had never gotten completely drunk before, he would have himself unconscious by the end of the day.

Of course, most would think that it was unusual that someone who had lived as long as he had (even then he was a good couple thousand years old), had never been completely drunk out of his mind. But that was a little known problem with wizards. Those who had any small amount of magic had an extreme tolerance for all types of liqueur (which was why wizards created their own special types of alcohol which affected them better i.e. Fire whiskey), and the stronger the wizard the harder to get them drunk. That was why wizards such as Dumbledore, Harry and even (especially) Voldemort had probably never been drunk. There was just something about alcohol that didn't react well with magic, so the stronger of the two wiped the other out.

That wasn't to say that wizards couldn't get drunk, it was just _a lot_ harder. Which was what led to it being such a long time before Harry decided that he was going to set himself a goal of getting drunk. It was also the reason he never had to worry about doing something that stupid again.

He had woken up the next day to the whole planet's landscape having been re-arranged and a new religion had been set up with him as its God.

It seemed he was a 'show-off' drunk.

He found out in the aftermath (through much grovelling and general worshipping) that some man in the same bar as he had been in, had noticed him off to the side and the amount of empty glasses on his table, the man had then challenged him to a drinking contest. Harry won of course, but the man had gotten a little rowdy and had said that he doubted Harry could do anything better.

Unfortunately Harry had already had many, _many_ drinks before said contest and had been quite drunk by this time, and this had led to Harry showing a bit of his magic and when the man had said that what he had done was cool but not that impressive, Harry had apparently decided to prove him wrong.

Thus the general landscape changes of the planet.

Truth be told, Harry had no clue how he had changed so much and had still had enough energy to wake up the next day. Sure he knew he was powerful, but apparently even changing a planet didn't push him to his limits if he could still get up in the morning. It had led him to making the discovery that a wizard gets more powerful the longer they live, which made sense considering how Dumbledore had managed to keep up with Voldemort despite all the rituals said psychotic megalomaniac had gone through to become more powerful.

And considering how strong Harry was to start with and then add on a couple millennia's worth of his power growing… He could see why the people of this planet thought of him as a God.

In any case he had stayed for a week, recuperating, before swearing off getting drunk (ever again!) and leaving the planet.

It was only two millennia later that he returned, and even then it was only because said planet was going through the worst drought that had occurred on any single planet in history. Literally _all_ the water was nearly gone, and because of this lack of general resources the other planets had refused trade with it and left the people on it to die.

Harry was fairly certain that his landscape changes hadn't caused the drought (it _had_ been 2,000 years), but he just couldn't be completely sure. So taking responsibility for what could have been the result of his actions he returned, honestly believing that in that time the religion would have died out and he could quickly fix the planet before getting a move on.

He was wrong. Not only had the religion apparently flourished, but there were enough written references (as well as many statues) of what he looked like for him to be immediately recognised. He had to admit that with his black hair, green eyes, scar, silver cloak, wand and black jewelled ring he was fairly recognizable.

The leader of the planet, after prying from him why he had returned, let him set about re-creating the planet. Using his memories of Earth he had spent a few months using his magic to create oceans, trees, deserts all the things that he thought would be needed. One interesting thing he learned in that time was that when a wizard is drunk they can apparently do magic a lot easier and with less side effects, he still wasn't sure why (maybe less inner restrictions?), because even with spreading the re-creation over a few months it still left him constantly tired and with a migraine the cruciatus curse would be envious of.

After fixing the planet he had decided to stay for a few years and make sure nothing went horribly wrong. Unfortunately the people of the planet had only had their faith in him reaffirmed and he was generally treated as a God in mortal form. Not only that, but the Commander of the planet deferred to everything he said with little to no argument. So in little time he became the new leader of the planet.

The first time he came to the planet he'd been having an identity crises, and because of that he just told everyone to call him HP. It seems that even after all that time, the information had been recorded somewhere and so, even though his crises was long over, he was now known as only HP by everyone on said planet.

He had left after 18 or so years, having grown quite fond of the planet and its people. But his conscious hadn't been able to let him leave them with misconstrued conceptions. So he had revealed that he wasn't, in fact, a God and merely a man with some nifty abilities.

They had obviously not believed him, but there wasn't much he could do about that. He had then told them to scrap the religion of him, as he wasn't a true God and there were many more worthy religions out there. They had been unsure and hesitant and he more than understood, as they had had those beliefs for more than 2 thousand years. So he told them that they should perhaps make the planet a neutral one that welcomed all religion, so that different people of different beliefs could spread them without fear of retribution.

He had left soon after that, even though he knew that the religion hadn't been scrapped and he was still viewed with general awe. Despite this he also knew that they had followed his advice and that the planet was now known as Helion Prime (another salute to him, he knew, as they didn't know his name other then HP and so they had presumably made a name for him) and that the main city of New Mecca was one of the most openly religious cities in the universe.

Shaking his head Harry smiled. He could quite honestly say that he viewed Helion Prime as _his_ planet, and that he loved the planet as much as he had loved Earth. He had gone back there once or twice under glamour to see how it was coming along, and he was truly surprised at what he saw. All the people, no matter their race or religion walked about with smiles on their faces and had a friendly word for strangers and friends alike. He had thought there would be more of a problem with so many contrasting religions, but he had even seen two people from completely opposing religious groups give a nod to each other as they walked by in the streets.

He had never been so proud in his life.

Shaking his head Harry brought himself out of his musings. Looking at Riddick who walked silently next to him, he noticed the man watching him out of the corner of his eye and realised he had been silent for a fairly long time. Wracking his brains he tried to think of something to say only to have Riddick beat him to it,

"Fond memories?"

Seeing Riddick motion at the empty bottle still in his hand, Harry grinned and tipped his head slightly,

"Let's just say there's a reason I haven't been to Helion Prime in a while."

Riddick let out a laugh as he realised what Harry meant,

"So it was at Helion Prime, eh? Not a bad place to be when you get drunk the first time, they have more than enough alcohol." Shaking his head slightly Riddick seemed amused with his thoughts, "For a completely religious planet they have a weird fascination with drinking. Something about the founding religion being based on getting drunk and accomplishing things you never knew you could… a load of crap if you ask me. They just wanted to have a reason to get drunk."

Harry blinked before his grin widened. He thought they hadn't remembered that it was because he was drunk the first time when he had…re-decorated their planet. When he had come back it had sounded like he had first changed the planet and saved all their lives from some other catastrophe. It didn't help that he had come back to save them from a drought.

"Well you never know. There could be some intricate story about why drink was such an integral part of one of the founding religions…In any case, how do you so much about Helion Prime? I didn't realise you had been there before."

Riddick shifted the rope to his other hand as they started to walk up another small sand dune, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. Harry was fine with the silence; content with thinking about how he would have reacted if he found out that his planet had harboured a dangerous criminal…probably not well.

"I hid there for a year." Riddick said, having apparently come out of his thoughts, "I had been running for a while by that point, having escaped from a slam called Butcher's Bay. One of the worst maximum security prisons I've been in, and there was no way in fuck I was going back. So I laid low there for a while, stealing what I needed and doing some odd jobs at night to get some cash… but I was sold out by a friend and had to get off the planet…Lets just say that you learn a lot about a planet when you have to scrounge through the worse parts of it for a while."

Harry watched Riddick as the man unconsciously picked up speed, the memories obviously triggering a natural reaction to move, to get away from the potential danger as quickly as possible. Matching his speed Harry walked beside Riddick for a while before saying quietly, almost inaudibly,

"I know."

The rest of the trip was done in silence. Both of them lost to their own thoughts, be it of the past or each other.

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Harry was knocked out of his thoughts when on the horizon he noticed a shape that was becoming more noticeable the closer they got. Seeing that they were making a bee-line for it he let a small smile cross his face at the thought of them having nearly arrived at the settlement. Whilst he wasn't actually injured, acting that he was took the energy right out of him.

Being under three suns didn't help either.

Before they knew it, they were moving among the buildings that made up the small settlement. Riddick moved off, taking the En-core to the emergency ship without a word. Harry smirked when he noticed Johns frown at Riddick already knowing where he had to go to get to the emergency ship.

Fry and Johns walked off, both also heading for the ship to probably make sure Riddick didn't try to make off with it.

Deciding to do a little exploring, Harry limped off in a random direction between some buildings.

As Harry was exploring he started to get more worried with each little thing he was noticing. He had gone into a few of the houses, and there were still personal items strewn about. Clothes were still on the racks and dusty photos on the shelves. Also, the others had said that the emergency ship had already been prepped.

Why would you prep an emergency ship without there being an emergency? You wouldn't. It was pure and simple. Something had caused the people of this abandoned settlement to attempt to run, to get away without even taking any of their valuables. And Harry had a feeling it had something to do with what had killed Zeke. With the things that were right beneath their feet.

Walking out of yet another house he followed what would have been the main street, going where ever it lead him whilst thinking about what had happened here. It was only when the street ended at a huge building that he stopped and again took in his surroundings. It looked to be the main building of this whole settlement, and moving closer he could make out the words 'Coring Room' above two large metal doors.

Reaching forward Harry attempted to drag the doors open only to stop when he heard the sound of chains and the door rattling but he was unable to open it. About to go find another way inside he stopped though, when he felt something.

It wasn't something he touched. No, it was something he could feel with his _magic_. Laying both his hands on the doors he closed his eyes and tried to focus on what he felt. It was like thinking you heard someone say your name, and then looking around trying to find whoever had said it. It was just a brush along his senses, but he could _just _feel it.

Not sure if it would work but willing to give it a try; Harry built the magic up beneath his skin, once again feeling frustrated that he couldn't just send his magic out and locate it that way. Whatever was taking his magic was going to get thoroughly destroyed if he had any say about it.

It did work. Marginally. He could feel that _something_ on the other side of the door was giving off magic. Even if it was infinitesimally small; about 30 times less than the amount of magic Harry would need to put into the average lumnos spell _before_ he became immortal. But it was there, and that was what mattered. He hadn't found _anything _that had magic since after Earth was destroyed.

Retracting his magic he turned around, determined to find another way into that building, only to stop when he came face to chin with someone who had been standing right behind him the whole time.

Automatically taking a step back (the only step he _could_ take with the doors now right behind him) he blinked when Riddick came into view, the man's mirror eyes watching him intently through the goggles he wore. Opening his mouth to question what was going on he stopped when Riddick leaned forward, his breath hitching slightly as Riddick's eyes somehow glinted through the dark lenses,

"What was that?"

Blinking again Harry spoke,

"What was what?"

Riddick growled slightly, the noise too close to how a wild animal would sound for most peoples comfort. But Harry wasn't 'most people' and so he merely cocked his head to the side, truly curious about what the man was going on about.

"That thing you _just_ did. When you had your hands on the door, you did…_something_."

Harry blinked, startled at where this was going. How did Riddick know he had done something?...Well it didn't matter, he couldn't tell him. The last time he told someone about what he could do they tried to dissect him…and the time before that he became a God. And those were just the most _memorable_ times; he didn't have a very good track record when it came to revealing what he was and what he could do.

So opening his mouth, fully intending on refuting everything, he was cut off when a hand slammed into the door right next to his face and Riddick lowered himself further until he blocked Harry's view of everything but himself.

"Don't even think of denying it. I can _see_ what you did. Did you think these eyes were just for fucking decoration? I see everything in whites and purples. I see energy in white light and you have always had a shit load of energy, but just now that white light went from rivalling the sun to nearly blinding me through my fucking goggles, which…" Leaning forward even further until their noses were practically touching Riddick finished, "…isn't fucking easy. These goggles can block out the light of _three_ suns. So you see," Now Riddick leaned back, Harry presumed so that he could watch every move Harry made and judge whether he was telling the truth or not, "my nearly being _blinded_ by your light _with_ the goggles on is some cause for fucking concern."

Harry held completely still for a second before he sighed whilst swiping a hand down his face. What could he do? Yes he could lie, but he had the feeling that Riddick could pick out liars as easy as he could snuff a life. Even if you had as much practice at lying as Harry did.

Leaning back against the doors behind him he felt that brush against his senses again, that feeling of _something_ behind him. He needed to find out what it was, and if he didn't tell Riddick what was going on then he could hope for 1 of 2 possibilities.

1) The man let him go but started watching him and everything he did. Or.

2) Riddick decided he was too much of a wild card and decided to just kill him, which would raise even more questions considering he _couldn't die_.

Sighing once again he finally decided to just reveal a small part of the truth, enough to satisfy Riddick's self-preservation instincts at least,

"Ok. How do I say this? I have some…abilities…That essentially allow me to…do things…Ugh…"

Frustrated with how he wasn't able to word things he ran a hand through his hair, thinking about what Riddick had said about his sight and how Harry could describe this in a way that Riddick could understand without laughing it off and/or attempting to kill him,

"Right. Basically you know that white energy you can see? Well, I can use that energy to do things. And by things I mean, essentially, anything. There normally are no limits to what I can do with it, but there is…_something_ on this planet that sucks the energy away as soon as it leaves my skin. That is why I haven't used it to simply fix our ship and get off this planet. What you saw me doing earlier was me trying to get my energy to sense what was beyond that door, because there is something on the other side of that door that has a limited version of what I have, and I want to know what it is and whether it is what is sucking away my energy, or has anything to do with it. Because if I can find a way to stop it, then we are as good as gone."

Letting out a breath at getting that all out he looked up from where he had focused his attention on Riddick's chest. Said man had an unreadable expression on his face as he stood there, watching Harry. Finally he shifted a little and tilted his head slightly.

"Prove it."

A sigh burst from Harry's lips again. He had _just _said that he couldn't do any spells because his magic would get sucked away. Was the man _not _listening _at all_?! But just as he raised a hand, about to do/say something that he would likely regret, a flash of light caught his eye and he blinked at his wrist band. A small smile formed on his lips as he wondered how he nearly forgot about this perfect demonstrative tool.

"Ok. Watch my hands."

Raising his other hand as well he motioned Riddick back a bit from him, giving him some distance so he couldn't accidentally impale the man when they reformed. Letting his magic activate the spells in the metal he smiled softly as the tingling increased in his wrists and his hands beyond the bands both got longer, his fingers fusing together to become flatter and sharper before they both formed short swords attached to his arms from the centre of the bands.

Looking up, Harry took in Riddick's slightly widened eyes as the man stared at his hands. Harry wasn't surprised. Despite how far technology had come since Earth, there was still absolutely nothing that could reform a body part into a completely different, in-animate object.

Riddick stepped forward until the short swords were nearly touching him, reaching out he ran a finger along the metal. Harry masked the shudder he felt. Whilst his hands were a completely different object, they still somehow felt things like his hands did. Although he could cut and kill with them, he felt everything as if they were merely his hands. Most of the time this was a bad thing, as it felt like he was plunging his hand into whatever person decided to get between him and his objective, but this time he could quite safely say it was a very…nice side effect.

Unfortunately Riddick seemed to notice as well as he quirked a brow and then, after running a finger slightly along the sharp edge of the blade (promptly getting a small cut and a drop of blood), he moved away. Harry felt the need to explain his not-so-hidden reaction; he'd rather it not be misunderstood,

"These were given to me by my mother. She could use the energy the same way I could, and she created these bands with them. She was one of the best at her type of work, and she wove the energy into the metal, allowing me to form anything I want with the same amount of mass beyond the bands. They are very useful, and can't come off. But the rather unfortunate side effect is that whilst I can cut and kill with these, they still feel and touch like my hands. This is regrettable as when I kill someone, it feels like I've plunged my hands into them and can feel everything I've cut through."

Riddick seemed even more fascinated. Moving around until he stood next to Harry, the other man reached out and traced the area where the metal bands ended and the sword began. Harry could feel the others heat from where he stood right next to him, and truth be told it was hard to focus between the body beside him and the hands tracing paths along what felt like his flesh but seemed like metal to Riddick.

What felt like eons later (and Harry would know), Riddick finally moved away. Harry let out an inaudible sigh, missing the feeling, though not understanding why. Sure he had realised there was some chemistry there, but he hadn't realised quite how strong it was. He got the feeling that if he wasn't careful he would start to really like the other man, and that could only end badly with someone like Riddick. Not because Riddick couldn't return the feelings (though Harry didn't doubt that was possible) but because said criminal would constantly be on the run from all the authorities that wanted him and that would make liking him for any length of time difficult. Never mind that Riddick's length of time was limited whilst Harry's was indefinite.

Riddick walked away a short distance before turned to look at Harry over his shoulder,

"We will talk more of this energy and what you can do with it later."

Harry rolled his eyes at the unquestionable demand, but instead of digging in his heels like he normally did with anyone who got presumptuous enough to give _him_ orders, he just reformed his hands and after picking up his cane, started limping after Riddick once again. He would try to find another way into the building soon enough. First he wanted to see if the others had picked up on anything unusual about the settlement.

One thing could be sure, though, and that was that things had just gotten _a lot_ more interesting.

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_An:_

_There you go. What did everyone think?_

_I rather enjoyed this chapter. I'm sorry if it was a bit slow at the beginning. I wanted to give Harry a bit more of a past, because before that he was simply a more cynical/powerful/immortal form of Harry Potter. I want to give him more meat, memories and experiences he can remember from the many years he has lived. This was just a little experience I thought I would give him._

_Though I have to say that the whole HP=Helion Prime thing was a complete coincidence. I just liked the idea of Harry getting completely drunk at some point and re-arranging the general landscape of a planet. The rest evolved from there, though if I decide to do a sequel this is the perfect point to evolve the whole necromonger thing. :D_

_In any case, thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed. And sorry if it looks a bit rough, I'm just glad I finally got it out, so only some of it has been proof read._

_-night flame miko_

_p.s. Reviews = Happy :P_


	5. Chapter 5

**Trapped In Black**

_By: night flame miko_

_**AN:**_

_Woohoo! And the next chapter is up! :P_

_I have to say I seriously looked forward to this chapter, simply because it marked the next pretty important events in the movie (and now in my plotline too :D)_

_Hope you all enjoy this as much as I know I will :)_

_**Warning:**__This is going to be __**a slash fic. **__Refer to __**previous chapters **__for __**full warning.**_

_**Disclaimer:**__Nope. Still don't own squat. Except this potentially wonderful plot. :P_

_And thank you to everyone who reviewed, there were some very interesting and wonderfully detailed ones. I think I've found that once you've written a story that's got more than a thousand reviews you find the ones with detail are the reviews to get excited about :)_

_And I've gotten more detailed reviews in this one story than in all my other stories, and for that I am very, very grateful._

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Harry sat leaning against a wall, watching everyone as they got ready to reveal what they had found.

It seemed that Harry and Riddick's timing had been perfect, because Johns met up with them as they were making their way back. Apparently he had come looking for them (Riddick) to make sure they 'didn't miss the party' (.i.e. Johns was worried Riddick was planning something nefarious and didn't want to leave him alone for too long).

Harry had followed them to this house, which had apparently been picked as the meeting place, and was watching as the other adult survivors slowly trickled in from wherever they had been exploring.

When everyone was there Fry stepped forward, about to start only to pause as Jack walked in. This was hard to tell at first glance, as Jack was now wearing some broken goggles and had apparently shaved his head. Jack paused and looked at everyone staring at him before asking with a slightly angry,

"What?"

Paris summed up what they were all thinking with a nice comment of,

"It's the winner of the look-alike contest."

Jack just glared and Fry decided to intervene before the boy decided to _really_ emulate Riddick and killed Paris in a potentially horrifying way.

"Ok. What has everyone found?"

The room went silent before Imam finally spoke,

"There are clothes still on the racks and valuables still in the houses. I know I'm not that much of an intellectual, but I think that is some cause for concern."

Fry nodded from where she stood in the centre,

"I noticed the same thing. The people who lived here were in a hurry when they decided to leave, and I want to know why."

Harry shook his head slightly. They were making it sound like the people of the settlement had gotten out alive. It was fairly obvious that they hadn't survived, but he also knew why everyone was dancing round the issue. If the original settlers didn't get out alive, then it was more than likely that whatever killed said settlers would still be on the planet…with them.

But whilst Harry was willing to let them work it out for themselves, it seems that Riddick didn't have his kind of patience.

"Oh come on. You can't seriously think that they made it off this planet alive? There are still clothes in the closets and valuables on the shelves-"

He was interrupted by Shazza, and Harry noted the interruption. It seemed that despite the death of Zeke she still didn't want to accept the inevitable, which could prove problematic in the future if anything were to go wrong before they managed to escape this planet.

"That might not mean anything! They might have just been in a hurry…"

Riddick shook his head, a small derogatory smirk on his face.

"You can't honestly believe that. Why would these people have prepped the emergency ship if there wasn't a fucking emergency? Something happened, and since the ship is still here, prepped and ready to go, they obviously didn't make it out of here alive."

Shazza opened her mouth, obviously about to deny what he was saying again when Fry stepped forward, interrupting what she had been about to say.

"Riddick's right. Think about it, why would these people leave everything here _including_ the emergency ship?" Turning to Riddick, who was leaning against the doorway smirking at the dismayed expressions on nearly everyone's faces (only Harry and Johns had already figured everything out already).  
"What do we do then, Riddick?"

Riddick's smirk widened as everyone's attention focused on him, only for him to suddenly still, immediately turning from a relaxed man to a wary predator. Fry opened her mouth, about to question what was wrong when she was cut off by a terrified scream. Everyone's head but Harry's and Riddick's snapped to look in the direction of the scream.

The was a brief pause as the others tried to comprehend what that scream could mean, before suddenly Imam looked around noting the missing figure and jumping to his feet.

"Ali!"

Scrambling to their feet the others took off after the fast disappearing figure of Imam, leaving Harry and Riddick watching them go.

Riddick looked to Harry, seemingly questioning his still being there. Harry simply tipped his head slightly before letting out a small, sad breath of air,

"Considering how fast those things got Zeke, I wouldn't hold out much hope for Ali."

Riddick nodded but reached forward, offering a hand once again to Harry, who cocked his head at the gesture,

"The scream came from the direction of the Coring Room. You said you were trying to get in there. Now would be as good an opportunity as any."

Blinking at the man's words, Harry realised Riddick was right and quickly gripping the other man's hand he let himself be pulled to his feet before hastily making his way outside and in the direction of the Coring Room, Riddick following easily behind him.

Considering Harry still had to pretend he was limping he managed very quick speed and arrived just in time to see Johns shoot through the door, managing to fire through the chains on the other side.

The doors were flung open, and Imam threw himself inside with Johns following after and Harry limping in and around Johns. All was quiet except for Imam's calls for his pupil, until the Muslim reached a pair of double doors to the side of the room and just about to touch them he was flung backwards as hundreds of tiny bat-like creatures flew out.

Imam curled himself on the ground and Harry, who had made his way around the room, pushed himself against the curved wall whilst Johns hastily stepped back outside and pulled the doors shut behind him, stopping the creatures from following him outside.

This mattered little to Harry, though, as he was now more than close enough to tell where the magic was coming from. It was the creatures. The magic was pouring off of them in small waves and just like him; the magic they generated was getting sucked away by something else. Pushing his magic up to his skin he watched as the creatures that had been flying in circles and drawing steadily nearer to him, suddenly flew away, seemingly able to sense him, much as he was able to sense them.

Apparently the creatures decided it was time for a strategic retreat (if they were even capable of sentient thought, which Harry seriously doubted) and flying up to the top of the domed roof in a long line they all spiralled back down into a hole in the centre of the room, disappearing from sight.

Harry's attention was diverted briefly when Imam gasped a horrified 'Ali!', and looking over he could just make out the corpse of one of Imam's pupils lying just beyond the double doors Imam was in front of. The muslim bowed his head and small mumbles could be heard, as the man obviously prayed for the soul of his young apprentice.

Harry left him to his prayers and instead watched as the others cautiously opened the doors once again, obviously very wary of what they would find beyond them. From where they stood they had a clear view through the double doors, and seeing what it was Imam was praying over the two women in the group bowed their own heads and said a quiet word. Johns and Jack made their way into the room, Jack slightly paler than usual, and it seemed seeing the body had thrown the boy off guard as he was walking in a much less stiff manner then he normally did.

Riddick was no where to be seen.

Limping his way over to the hole Harry heard the others (except Imam) make their way after him. Peering down into what appeared to be the mining shaft he motioned at it with his cane,

"The creatures flew down here after making a few circuits of the room."

Johns reached into a pack he kept with him and after rummaging around he pulled out a flare. Lighting it he tossed it down, the green glow highlighting the bones of what could only be the previous settlers littered within the walls and all along the bottom of the shaft.

"It seems they tried to escape those things by coming in here, locking themselves behind the thickest steel walls in the area. Must have forgot to lock the cellar though."

Riddick's grim humour fell on deaf ears as he stepped out into the area between the wire mesh platform they stood on and the ground floor, looking into the shaft as the flare died down. They all stayed in that room awhile, talking quietly amongst themselves or sitting off to the side thinking of what they could potentially be up against.

-------------------------------------------------

They had all separated again, moving off to explore or just be by themselves for a short while.

Harry had chosen to make his way to a house a short distance from the meeting room, giving himself enough room for some privacy but close enough that should something happen he would be in easy calling distance.

His solitude lasted a short while before a shadow crossed his doorway and he looked up to see Riddick framed in his doorway.

"You find what you were lookin' for?"

Harry cocked his head to the side, regarding the man before nodding slightly. He realised that there would be a time for questions but he had hoped for some more time before they came. Riddick took his nod as an acceptance of the unasked question and promptly stalked into the room, giving off the vibes of a hunter closing in on its prey.

Deciding to pre-empt the strike Harry began talking as Riddick leaned against a wall, giving himself height over Harry who was sitting with his back to another wall,

"I've been thinking about it, and I think I know why I can't send my energy out without it being sucked away…"

Looking up to Riddick, Harry tipped his head to the side inquiring as to whether Riddick was at all interested in his theory or not. Riddick tipped his own head forward slightly, accepting the invitation though he did smirk slightly, telling Harry that he had caught onto his game and that he wouldn't let it last over-long.

Harry leaned his head back against the wall, closing his eyes as he thought, though grinning slightly at allowing himself to bare his throat with an unchained predator mere feet from him. The thrill of anticipated danger was completely worth it.

"I think…that the atmosphere of this very planet eats my magic-"

Stopping and looking at the other when Riddick cleared his throat, the other's eyebrow raised Harry realised what he had said and waved a hand negligently,

"Magic is the term me and my…people use to describe the energy we can manipulate. It is the easiest term to use as with the energy, and enough of it, we can do pretty much anything. So as I was saying, I think that this planet's atmosphere…absorbs magic...I noticed that it was those creatures who gave off their own magic continuously, and that their magic was frighteningly similar to my own, though only in smaller quantities…I had thought about it earlier and it makes sense…"

Turning to Riddick Harry gestured with his hands, trying to get the other to join in his enthusiasm for discovering something new,

"You see, I had wondered how this planet's ozone layer could possibly withstand 3 suns, and how there could still be oxygen making up this planet's atmosphere when there are no living trees to speak of and the only water is apparently deep underground. It didn't make sense.

"But now it does. You see, I think that this planet evolved and it's creatures with it. It changed itself so that it's very atmosphere and ozone layer take the magic generated by the creatures on this planet to convert any carbon dioxide into oxygen and fix any damage to the ozone layer caused by the three suns rays. The planet and its creatures live a purely symbiotic life where one cannot survive without the other…though I wouldn't really say this planet was surviving as the creatures have long killed anything else that lived on its surface."

Throughout his whole explanation Harry had waved his hands about and even stood up, pacing slightly as he put into words the idea that had been forming in his head since he first sensed other magic beyond those doors. It made complete sense, but unfortunately it also made things a lot more difficult. Because whilst Harry could find and destroy any object that was absorbing his magic and then use the rest of his magic to fix the ship and get everyone off this godforsaken planet, he couldn't destroy an atmosphere/ozone layer…Well, he _could_ but only if he wanted to be the only survivor.

And so, if he was right, he was going to have to do this the hard way. Harry honestly couldn't say how long it had been since he had had so much fun.

Looking up Harry ignored the fact that Riddick was staring at him with a raised eyebrow and an amused smirk on his face. He knew that he was not acting much like his usual detached self, and that Riddick probably didn't understand a word he was talking about, but he couldn't much care right now.

In fact, the realisation that there were other creatures with magic in this universe had sparked off an idea about another problem he had come up against.

Striding forward until he was level with Riddick, Harry looked up into the uncovered eyes.

"I think I know why you can see magic. Where I come from, it is known as 'mage-sight', but normally only people who control my type of energy could use it. I can't sense any magic in you, but I suspect that you don't have the same type of energy as me and that for me to sense it properly I would have to put some of _my_ magic _in_ you. I have never done this to someone else with magic before so I think that I should at least give you the opportunity to say no, in case something goes potentially wrong."

Riddick looked down at him, his eyes narrowed marginally as he regarded Harry. He could honestly say that he was curious about his sight as well. He had always assumed that it allowed him to see signatures generated by heat, but that had recently been blown out of the water.

He needed to know what it was he was actually seeing, because if there was one man who lived by the saying, 'Know thyself better then thy enemies', it was Riddick.

The true question was, would he allow himself to put his trust into a man he had never met before this trip…A man who could do impossible things, like change his hands into blades and nearly blind Riddick with the energy trapped within him…

Shrugging Riddick waved a hand carelessly to the side,

"Break a leg."

That slightly quirky smile appeared on Harry's face as he raised his hands and placed them on Riddick's chest. If he wanted his magic to make it into Riddick without getting sucked away, he was going to need to touch the other.

Ignoring the shaped muscles and heat generated under his hands Harry gripped a small part of his magic, and deciding that since he couldn't sense Riddick's magic at all despite being almost as close as physically possible, he thrust his own magic as far into the other man's chest as he could, intent on finding even the smallest traces of magic.

The reaction was instantaneous. It was like Harry had plunged himself into controlled chaos. Everywhere about him, encompassing him was the feeling of Riddick. Everything that made up Riddick surrounded and attacked him, protecting and caressing him, ending and starting him all at once. He could feel the magic now as if it had always been there. Matching Riddick's personality, the man's magic hid within him, just beneath Riddick's skin it was different then Harry's magic. Whilst Harry's could be used to do anything with the right incantation and amount of energy, Riddick's magic was used purely to increase everything that made up Riddick to astronomical proportions. The man's sight, his smell, his emotions his _instincts_. All of that energy was used to increase those aspects of the man, and in that way Riddick's magic was almost animalistic. Magic was thrashing and purring, growling and stalking, all of this surrounded Harry, moving along the magical senses he had pushed into the man, rubbing along his mind like some barely controlled feline.

And as Harry stood on shaky legs, his eyes closed and short, panting breaths escaping him, he could only conclude that it was the single most sensual thing he had ever felt in his life.

Riddick wasn't in much better a state. Sweat was forming on his brow and without conscious thought his body moved forward, trapping Black's hands between them, where the energy linked the two of them together.

He hadn't known what to expect, but it certainly hadn't been _this_. It was as if some single, bright, uncontrollable light strode into him from Black. He could feel it within him, and if that light could have a taste, he would say it was of wild things. Riddick knew that the light he could feel within him was Black, it was the other man's very essence, his _soul_ and that everything that was the man could be seen within that light.

The light itself he could see in his minds eye, lighting up the darkness with it's ferocity, pushing with unquestionable power outwards in it's never ending war with the shadows. And yet he had no doubt that Black could and would win. Because he could taste it. Black tasted of age and wisdom, of years upon years spent everywhere and anywhere.

And the _power_ there…

He hadn't known whether to truly believe what Black had said about being able to do anything with magic, but now he couldn't question it. Riddick knew that this man, if he wanted something; world's would crumble and nations would perish for him to get it.

Lowering his arms around the slightly shorter man, he pulled Black against him harshly. Riddick wanted to _taste_ it, he wanted to _see_ if that light he could feel within the other tasted as he imagined it would. Pushing his head into the crook of Black's neck he dragged his tongue along the tanned column, feeling the other man's wildly beating pulse and his panting breath against him. Closing his mouth Riddick savoured the taste. It wasn't as he had imagined it, but then he was more then distracted by the power still within him; of the light that made up everything that was Black trapped somewhere within his own chest.

Harry and Riddick both weren't sure of where things might've gone from there, but they didn't find out in any case as Fry's voice broke through their _very_ fogged minds. Pulling his magic out of Riddick, Harry shuddered as the overwhelming feelings disappeared as if they had never been. Only their memories prowled their way through his mind.

He didn't complain when Riddick didn't let go of him immediately, simply leaning against the other, welcoming someone else's support for the first time in a long while.

Finally Riddick drew back and Harry stepped away as well, both of them simply regarding the other before Riddick finally spoke,

"What _are_ you?"

Harry looked at him silently for a long while before shrugging slightly and bending down to pick up his cane, he answered,

"I honestly have no idea…I am…something."

Riddick snorted, not needing to say how that was the understatement of the century (millennia?). Hearing Fry continue to call everyone back to the meeting room they both gave each other a long look, mentally recuperating before pulling themselves together and making their way out of the house and back down the street.

It was only on their way back that Riddick noticed that Harry was limping again and using his cane for support, letting out a bark of laughter he shook his head,

"You don't need that. You never _have_ needed it."

Harry just grinned and tapped the side of his nose,

"That's just between you and me though, right?"

Riddick simply grinned, seemingly amused with the idea of such a small secret in comparison to the rest of what Black was hiding. Which, now that he thought about it… Turning to the other man Riddick had that small smirk back on his face,

"Well if you wanted to distract me with something, that was certainly _one_ way of going about it."

Harry cocked his head, grinning slightly as well,

"Oh? And what is another way that you would suggest."

Riddick's smirk widened,

"Sex."

Shaking his head Harry just snorted,

"Why am I not surprised?"

At that Riddick cocked his head to the side, seemingly genuinely thinking about the answer,

"Well you shouldn't be, that was as close to sex as it gets without penetration and even that part is debatable, what with your whole magic-voodoo thingy."

This time Harry looked insulted,

"Voodoo thingy? I'll have you know that my magic has absolutely nothing to do with that doll playing crap."

Riddick smirked,

"Oh, I think I've hit a nerve. Should I do it again?"

Swinging his cane, Harry lightly swatted Riddick on the back of his legs,

"Don't get cocky just cause I can't use my magic right now. I have more than enough tricks up my sleeve to not have to rely on magic."

At Harry's decidedly manic grin, even Riddick knew when to leave best alone. Instead they simply made their way down the street, both thinking of what they had just experienced and what they had learnt about the other.

It seemed they both had a lot to think about.

-------------------------------------------

_An:_

_Sorry I know this one is slightly shorter than the others, but it is late, and I am tired and simply wanted to get this chapter up. If you see any spelling errors, sorry and if you could just let me know, I will be more than happy to fix it._

_Hope you all enjoyed it, I don't know where this idea came from but it has been bugging me for the past two days, so I hope all you rabid slash fans enjoyed it. I sure had fun writing it :P_

_Till later, and please tell me what you think, I would love to know how I am doing with this pairing._

_-night flame miko_


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